


For This and All Our Blessings

by enigmaticblue



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, Gen, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:17:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1689725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tara has an unexpected guest for her semi-disastrous Thanksgiving. Set in a slightly AU S6.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For This and All Our Blessings

Tara stared at the pie in dismay. All she had wanted was a real Thanksgiving dinner, even if she was going to be eating alone. The turkey breast, green beans, and cranberry sauce had been fine, but the pie—her one real splurge—was toast.

 

 

She didn’t understand; Tara had made pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving every year since she was 12, and she had never burnt one. The crust was definitely a very dark brown, however, and she sighed and blinked back tears. It seemed that her suspicion that there was something up with the oven in the dinky studio apartment was right on.

 

This year was a far cry from last, when she and Willow had been together. Buffy’s mom hadn’t been feeling quite up to dinner, so the Scoobies had divided up the duties, and they’d put together a passable feast. Tara had had a definite sense of family.

 

“Oh, hell,” she muttered, deciding that she’d just give into the misery. Tara was tired of pretending that she was fine.

 

Taking a spoon, she dug out a chunk of pumpkin pie filling, waited just long enough for it to cool, and stuffed it into her mouth. At least that part wasn’t too bad.

 

She’d only had a few bites when a knock came at the door. Tara glanced through the peephole and frowned. She wasn’t expecting anyone today, least of all Spike. Opening the door, she stared at him cautiously. “Hello, Spike.”

 

He shifted from foot to foot. “H’lo. Can I come in?”

 

Tara hesitated briefly, knowing that while she could revoke his invitation later, it wasn’t something she wanted to put on her to-do list. “Okay. Come in, Spike.”

 

His hands were stuffed in his pockets as he shuffled inside, looking anywhere but at her. “I, uh, wanted to ask you for a favor.”

 

Tara’s innate hospitality reasserted itself. “Sit down,” she said, waving him to the couch, her sole piece of furniture. She’d gotten the pullout cheap from another student. Although living in the dorms would have been easier and more convenient, at this late date, there hadn’t been a room available.

 

If only she’d known how things were going to turn out before the semester began, if only she’d listened to her instincts months ago, when she first sensed that Willow was allowing the magic to take over.

 

Spike perched on the edge of the cushion on one end, looking more uncomfortable than Tara ever remembered seeing him before. “What’s wrong, Spike?” she asked gently, sitting next to him.

 

He shook his head. “I need a spell. Something.”

 

“A spell for what?”

 

“Forgetting someone, or getting over someone.” He met her eyes for the first time since she’d opened her door to him. “Do you know of anything?”

 

Tara winced. “Time? If I did, don’t you think I would have used it on myself?”

 

Spike looked away quickly, and she saw anger and shame pass over his face before his expression went blank. “Yeah. Should have figured. Sorry to bother you.”

 

He would have left then, but Tara felt compelled to call him back. She had no idea what had caused him to be so desperate that he’d ask her for help with a spell, especially given his opinion of magic, but she sensed in him the same loneliness that was haunting her.

 

“Wait, Spike. Do you want a cup of tea?”

 

His blue eyes were wide with surprise. “Why?”

 

“Why what?”

 

“Why would you even offer?” His tone was harsh and at odds with her friendly invitation. “I’m evil, right? Not fit to have around?”

 

Tara blinked. She hadn’t thought of Spike as evil in a very long time; they had entrusted Dawn’s care to him any number of times over the course of the summer. “I never said that,” she replied, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice. She’d been on the edge of tears before he arrived at her door, and the accusatory edge to his question had her nearly crying again.

 

“Oh, bloody hell,” he muttered, sitting down next to her again. “I’m sorry, ducks. I’m a bad, rude man.”

 

Absurdly, his apology brought the tears in earnest, even though the sniffled desperately, trying to hold them at bay. “It’s okay.”

 

“No, it’s not.” He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “I’m sorry. It’s been a bad day.”

 

Tara swiped at her wet cheeks desperately and sniffed harder. No one had touched her since she’d left the Summers’ residence—no one except for Dawn. “Sod it all.” Spike rose abruptly, but Tara didn’t try to call him back this time.

 

It was a miserable day. Although she didn’t regret cutting ties with her family, Thanksgiving had always been a highlight, a day when differences were put aside, and when Tara could forge relationships with her female relatives in the kitchen. She had left all of that behind, she’d left Willow, and her pie was ruined.

 

Tara was ready to have a good cry.

 

“Here.” A handful of tissues were shoved under her nose. She took them and began mopping up her face. “Where’s your tea?”

 

Spike’s voice was gruff, but Tara could hear the concern underneath. “I can get it.”

 

“You sit. The tea?”

 

“The cupboard on the left of the fridge.”

 

She could hear him opening and closing doors, and she heard the water running and the rattle of the ancient kettle. It had been her mom’s, one of the few things she’d brought with her, and that she’d kept.

 

By the time Spike reappeared with two steaming mugs, Tara had herself well under control and was feeling a little embarrassed. “Thanks,” she said, accepting the mug. “Sorry about that.”

 

He shrugged. “Not a big deal. It’s not the first time.”

 

“Not the first time for what?”

 

“Dru would get upset sometimes,” he responded cryptically, keeping his eyes on his tea. “Hope you don’t mind, but I put a little something extra in there.”

 

Tara sniffed, then took a sip. “Whiskey?”

 

He gave her an approving smile. “Not bad.”

 

“I know my liquor.” She took another sip, feeling the heat from the liquid and the alcohol spread through her. “It’s strong.”

 

“You don’t seem to mind.”

 

“I don’t.”

 

“Didn’t figure you for a drinker.”

 

“I’m not anymore.”

 

“Yeah.” Spike looked away, and she could see the pained expression on his face.

 

Tara suddenly knew why he had come, and why he had made the request he had. “This is about Buffy, isn’t it?”

 

“Isn’t everything?” In response to her expression, he sighed. “Yeah, well, I thought things were different. Turns out, they weren’t. Got told off good and proper today.”

 

Tara winced. “Did you go over there?”

 

“Wanted to see her and Dawn.” Spike shifted. “Doesn’t matter. Guess I’ll just stay away like she asked. It’s what she seems to want.”

 

The last bit was said with a raw bitterness that stung, even though Tara knew it wasn’t directed at her. “I’m sorry, Spike.”

 

“Not your fault.”

 

They sat in silence for a moment, and Tara took a deep breath. “Do you want a piece of pie? The crust is burnt, but the rest of it isn’t too bad.”

 

“I’m sure it’s good,” Spike responded. “But I’ll pass. Not a big fan of pumpkin.”

 

Tara smiled. “I’m not either, but we always had pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving. It was more the tradition than anything else.”

 

“Maybe it’s time to make your own traditions, pet. Looks like you’re making your own way just fine.” His smile was genuine, and Tara found herself smiling back.

 

She realized they were both in the same position—they had been a part of the Scoobies, and now were on their own. And Tara suddenly felt much less alone. “Do you want to stay for a while? I rented a couple of movies to watch.” When he hesitated, she added, “I’d be grateful for the company.”

 

Spike still looked ready to refuse, then something in his eyes changed, and he shrugged. “Yeah, alright. Not like I was doing anything else today.”

 

Tara thought that it might not be such a miserable holiday after all.


End file.
